The book is two things: A properly gripping thriller and a philosophical treatise on technology and modern life. Both parts are well-written, but unfortunately, they exist almost as two separate books printed and bound together as one.
I know Jason Pargin well from his old Cracked days, so it’s easy for me to see when the characters are speaking with his voice. It’s rarely preachy, though, because he’s good at separating his arguments into dialogues between two characters who will disagree while both fundamentally making valid points. At no point is the reader told which one they have to side with. The problem with the book’s philosophy is that in no way does it drive the plot; it’s just something for characters to discuss on the route from point A to point B, or in a flashback to some online interaction. This would be forgivable on its own, but the book constantly hints that the climactic reveal of the titular box’s contents will be related. There’s nothing wrong with the ultimate anticlimax (in fact, the box actually containing some sort of bomb would have been an even bigger letdown), but it makes us wonder what the point of it all was, particularly considering Pargin has never had a problem delivering his philosophy directly in article or video form.
When the philosophy is stripped away, the book becomes a fairly simple story of love, loss and regret. As with discussions of the author’s personal opinions, it’s very well-written, but unfortunately, it plays out in the background. The figures involved in the love triangle and revenge plot are kept mysterious, which serves well to build tension, but comes at the expense of emotional payoff at the end. It’s hard to feel the heartbreak for a character we first met a few pages ago. Moreover, despite the author’s strong opinions on society in 2024, there’s nothing preventing the box delivery plot from having taken place in the 1990s or earlier, just substituting the obstacles put in the path by parasocial online followers with organic, location-based roadblocks. Even the book’s only true villain is not shown to have had his brain cooked in any way by the internet; his revenge scheme is inspired by a real-life maniac and in the context of the story, he’s clearly acting on a more legitimate grievance than the original.
I don’t want to come off as too harsh, though. I’ve read books where the ending made me retroactively like the rest of the story less, and this wasn’t one of them. It’s still both page-turning and thought-provoking, and the characters feel like genuine individuals, not merely socratic sockpuppets. I would probably enjoy reading it again if I hadn’t resolved to clear up the backlog of books I’ve started over the years. If I’m grading it on a high curve, it’s only because I know what the author is capable of. The way that it suffers from having a linear plot where obstacles delay without redirecting and from character development exclusively taking place via conversation is something I’m only able to criticize using rules I was taught by Pargin himself. I had taken to heart his criticism of the latest Mission Impossible movie, where the characters are given a task at the beginning and after overcoming obstacles, they accomplish that task in the end. I kept waiting for his book’s action sequences to either reveal something about the characters or radically change the goal of their mission, and it’s because of expectations created by the author outside the work that I felt disappointed.
Finally, out of all the deep discussions the characters have, there’s only one I felt compelled to insert my own opinion into: There’s nobody out there who stands to profit from the continued existence of the guinea worm.
by LamppostBoy